week 10: OH COME ON

Looks like my body doesn't give a shit about that whole "the ninth week is the worst week" thing. The only time I don't battle nausea is from wake-up to mid-morning. The rest of the day is a battle. I have no appetite, but yet if I don't eat I feel even sicker.

I've also realized that being pregnant is terribly isolating. I feel alone. I feel like no one could understand what it's like to feel so emotionally ragged, to experience such discordance with my normal apetite, to be constipated, tired at unfortunate times and then toss and turn all night...fuck. I could go on and on.

I get unsolicited advice from those who have no business advising. Reading about pregnancy and all the birth planning is overwhelming and it sort of makes me sick to read about it. I honestly think that I could go the rest of this pregnancy without knowing anything else. I've seen A Baby Story a million times. Isn't that enough?

Micah has it in his head that we don't need the cats anymore because they are filthy. I remind him that they've been in my life longer than he has. That doesn't seem to get me anywhere. He's had pets before and he's decided that life is so much easier (and cleaner) without them. I don't know what to do about this because I really don't want to give any of the animals away. I'd be bitter about it for the rest of my life. Yet I know when the baby is here (and in the last few uncomfortable months) the last thing I'm going to want to do is pet the cat in their needy moments because SORRY - there's an even needier little human in the house. I find it terribly interesting that Micah liked the cats at first - nay - PRETENDED to like the cats at first. What, to make me like him more? He says it's all about the baby now. He doesn't like the idea of the filthy animals getting our area filthier. You know what else is terribly interesting? That this all started when I let Micah know he'd be cleaning the litter box for the next nine months.

But then today he apologized up and down for the scene he caused last night. Perhaps I'm not the only one suffering from baby-related anxiety.

I can't eat a proper lunch or dinner. Do you know how frustrating that is? Mostly whatever we have in the house, I don't want. Yet I can think of ten things from nearby restaurants that sounds delicious. Until it's in front of me. Then I take a few bites and start crying because it's just not what I wanted it to be.

YEAH. Pregnancy SUCKS. If someone tells you different? Punch 'em in the fucking neck for me.